Daddy Dearest
by Aardvark123
Summary: A quiet afternoon at Alice's house brings back memories of Marisa's happy childhood, and of the decidedly unhappy childhood which took over after a nasty magic accident. Steeling herself, Marisa goes to confront her father over his actions. If you have ever suffered from child abuse, this might not be the ideal story for you, so please read with caution.


**~Author's Note~**

If you prefer to have Marisa say "ze" a lot, you'll need to make it a part of the "voice" you give her inside your head as you read. I haven't been able to include Japanese verbal tics like that without it looking rather clumsy.

 **~Daddy Dearest~**

Alice's house was full to the brim with dolls. Rows of small, cute porcelain women lined the antique wooden shelves and lace-covered Victorian furniture. Some of them were playing card games or romping on the soft furnishings, a few were pretending to have tea and cake, and one had started her own rice farm in a large plant pot.

Between bites of Victoria sponge that covered her in snowy-white icing sugar, Marisa was telling Alice all about the latest Ultraman play. "Oh, it was the coolest thing ever! They had this wooden village backdrop, right, but it could fall into a slot at the back of the stage, and there was the exact same backdrop behind it, but smaller! Then the main character would dart off stage and Shinmyoumaru would take his place, except she's dressed just like him, and she'd shout 'Shuwatch!' and turn into Ultraman!"

"Gosh. And, um, how did she accomplish that?" asked Alice, showing what she judged to be a polite level of interest.

"There was a big light show, and she sort of flattened herself against the floor and crawled away while the guy in the Ultraman costume came on stage. It was so well done, I could barely see what was going on! Kind of a pity she got her trousers caught on a cardboard flower, though," said Marisa. She helped herself to another slice of cake.

"It sounds most impressive."

"Yeah." Marisa swallowed with some effort. "I hear they're going to do Attack on Titan next, or at least as soon as the actor guy can get some decent muscles."

"Attack on What?"

"Titan."

"Oh. I do wonder where Princess Kaguya gets all these ideas from," said Alice pensively.

"You don't know? She used to bring in all sorts of TV programmes from the Outside World so she wouldn't die of boredom in that mansion all day, not that she really _can_ die of boredom, but, y'know..." Marisa cleared her throat. "Then Reimu got Amaterasu to have a few words with her brother, and Kaguya's free to run around outside all day and turn her favourite programmes into noh plays!"

"Ah." Alice quickly sipped her tea so she wouldn't have to come up with a response.

"You should come with me one of these days. There aren't any Lunarians waiting to drag _you_ home, so you can't stay cooped up inside all day," said Marisa, starting on her third slice of cake. "There'f a sailmff mmmf pmfl-" she swallowed. "Sorry. There's a Sailor Moon play on Friday. You'd love it!"

"I don't know... I have to take Shanghai and Hourai to rugby practice, and, um..."

Alice's face was impassive, but Marisa could tell she was panicking on the inside. Probably best not to press the issue. "Well, if you wanna come, don't let me stop you. Anyway, um... Uh..."

The rice-farming doll tugged on Alice's sleeve, leaving a small muddy hand-print. She proffered a tiny basket of freshly-picked rice, making Alice gasp with delight.

"For me?! Oh, you dear little thing! Thank you, Aiko! Thank you! This will make such a good fun-sized rice ball!" squealed Alice, accepting the basket with reverence. Aiko hopped up and down and clapped her hands, her wooden face a vivid shade of pink.

"Now I've seen it all," said Marisa.

"Dolls are amazing! They run on nothing but imagination, and they're the best friends anyone could wish for..." sighed Alice, swooning into Marisa's lap. "Aiko's always loved agriculture, you know, ever since I created her. I thought I'd made a mistake, but it turned out I'd finally succeeded in giving a normal-sized doll her own personality! I was so proud I couldn't stop dancing for weeks."

"Oh, so that's what that was all about!" cried Marisa triumphantly. "I wondered why you wore out three pairs of shoes in one month. Guess constant dancing can do that." She reached for a fourth slice of cake, but a sharp pain in her stomach made her reconsider.

A few minutes passed in companionable silence, then Alice asked a question. "Do you have any dolls, Marisa?"

"Eh?" Marisa blinked. "Dolls? Uh, no. I did, but... Not now."

"Oh. What happened to them?"

"Dad burned them, I guess." Marisa sighed. "I can hardly remember what they were like anyway, so..."

"You said you had five of them, didn't you?" Alice asked carefully.

"Three!" said Marisa instantly. "Uh, three. Probably." She caught Alice's eye and realised that lying was useless. "Three. Shinobu, Hanako and Ikue."

Alice's eyes were wide with friendly, open curiosity. Marisa took a deep breath and pressed on. "Shinobu was the leader of the three. She was a samurai- big surprise, with a name like Shinobu- and she used to ride a two-headed horse with a feather for a tail. I made it out of clay. Hanako was the witch who used to go with Shinobu on all their adventures. They loved each other, but they mostly showed it by hitting each other. And Ikue, well, she was missing a leg, so Dad made her a new one out of scrap metal." Marisa's face fell. "I never got to see whether it burned or not."

"Oh, that's horrible..."

"Ah, it's no big deal. They were just toys, y'know?" said Marisa, smirking. The smirk lasted all of half a second. "Just toys I loved more than anything... Except Mum, but she... Well, you know."

"Blew herself up while she was working on some new enchantments?" said Alice promptly.

Marisa gave her a withering look. "Yes, something like that."

"I don't understand how you could ever forgive your father. How long had your mother been dead for when he kicked you out of the house? Three years? Four?"

Marisa's withering look continued. "Four, if you must know. And I'd rather forget about-"

"He burned all your toys, broke your limbs, threatened you with a gun, kicked you out of the house...! How is any of that forgivable?! After all the horrible, unspeakable tortures he-"

"Alice, will you please-?!" Marisa took a steadying breath. "Look. Me and Dad, we've got this understanding. He doesn't hate me, I don't hate him, we don't talk about the past, everything is reasonably good. And, well, we fought giant worms together, so that helped."

"Mhmm..." said Alice, not looking convinced.

"I mean, you forgave me for what happened in Makai, so I don't see how, uh..."

Alice's face darkened.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"My mother did considerably more damage to the capital than she cares to admit," said Alice slowly, not meeting Marisa's gaze. "At first, I did hate you, but do you know what we've been doing since then?"

"Making mad, passionate love at least once a week?" offered Marisa.

"Well, yes," said Alice patiently. "That, and talking. We discussed the whole Incident time and time again, and I came to realise that you weren't a bad person, merely a stupid, gullible one."

Marisa blinked. "Thanks...?"

"You're welcome," said Alice. "In any case, you should talk to your father. The past should never be buried, only kept safely in the cellar until you're ready to look at it."

Marisa scoffed. "Me, talk to Dad about that past?! Get real!"

* * *

Marisa took a deep breath and stepped up to the door. Her fist hung in the air, poised to knock smartly on the heavy, varnished wood. She still didn't understand how Alice had managed to talk her into doing it.

 _You're being stupid. Just knock, will you?_ she told herself. _I mean, come on, you've fought the Goddess of Hell, run naked through Yuuka's fields and lived to strip another day, kissed a kuchisake-onna, walked a mile in those dreadful prototype getaloshes, arm-wrestled a frigging dragon and didn't even scream when your shoulder popped out...! He's just one man! Knock the stupid door, will you?!_

"All right, all right, I'll do it! Susano-o wept...!" sighed Marisa, giving her eyes a melodramatic roll. She forced down a wave of anxiety and rapped on the door.

For several seconds, all was quiet.

 _He's probably out,_ Marisa decided. Relief washed over her like cool, clean water over a foot that's spent all day tramping through the desert. _Okay, time to hit the pub, get some new dolls to brighten the place up -_

The door opened a crack. "Yes, what is it? I told you, I don't want any- M-Marisa! This is a surprise. I haven't seen you since last Tuesday, when you showed me that awful black jumpsuit!"

"Oh, hi, Dad! I... I, um... I'm..." _Just pretend he's Yuuka. She's much less scary._ "I'm here to frolic naked through your fields of sunflowers!"

"Um... In that case, come in! Have a seat." Yoshirou Kirisame, father of Marisa, beckoned her into the house.

Marisa followed her father into the living room and plonked herself down beside the kotatsu. The room felt so small now that she'd reached the gargantuan height of four-foot-eight. (Five-foot-five with the hat.) Shelves of alcohol that had spent years tantalisingly out of reach were now just a brief struggle on tiptoes away.

"Would you like some tea?" said Mr Kirisame.

"Please," said Marisa, reluctantly accepting that she needed to stay sober.

"I've got some fresh genmaicha this week," said Mr Kirisame, busying himself with the tea things. "That's tea with built-in rice. It's bound to sell when everyone hears about it, so be sure to tell your friends. Reimu should like it, and... that other lady. With the plaits and the big ears."

"Right..."

Mr Kirisame poured the tea and took a drink. "Eech... Seriously, tell your friends. If I don't shift this kappa drool sooner or later I'm going to lose thousands."

Intrigued, Marisa sipped her genmaicha. Her face screwed up in agony.

"I would've used fresher rice," said Mr Kirisame.

"Yeah..." Marisa poured the tea into a pot of scraggly sunflowers, ignoring her father's admonishment to remain clothed. "So, how's Taro? I know he's had a fear of history books ever since Keine... You know..."

"He's on solid food, but I don't think he'll be okay any time soon," said Mr Kirisame. "Not a huge loss, but his brother's been inconsolable. I thought I'd seen people crying, but you've never truly seen someone cry until you see Hayato cry."

"I know what you mean. It's like a fountain!" laughed Marisa. "It can't be easy for him, though, seeing his brother concussed by a book about the first two decades of the Tokugawa Whatever-It-Was."

"Shogunate."

"Gesundheit," said Marisa.

"No, no. it was a shogunate," said Mr Kirisame heavily, "founded by someone called Ieyasu."

"Oh, yeah. Of course... Well, anyway, did you know Sakuya's afraid of kangaroos?" Marisa changed the subject. "It's true. She can't even look at a picture of one unless Meiling holds her hand! Apparently it's their snouts, but I can't really see it myself."

"You mean the knife-throwing maid? I didn't think she was afraid of anything," said Mr Kirisame.

"Well, she's not scared of much. Just kangaroos, and maybe all the people she loves dying horribly," said Marisa matter-of-factly. "She just doesn't care about danger or, like, pain and stuff. No matter how many teeth it has, she'll turn it into a pincushion!"

"Or a blanket for one of those little girls," said Mr Kirisame.

"Well, yeah. She's not afraid of much, but she's _aflayed_ of everything!"

Marisa burst out laughing. Mr Kirisame put his head in his hands and tried not to lose the will to live.

"Um," said Marisa, "do you get it? 'Aflayed?' As in flayed?"

Mr Kirisame smiled. "Puns like that aren't very _knife_."

Marisa laughed like a drain.

"Anyway, you said you wanted to ask me something. Why don't we... _cut_ to the chase?!"

"Oh, stop it! Stop it!" guffawed Marisa. "Oh, gods, if I laugh any more I'm gonna have a heart attack!" She realised her father had asked a question and quickly went back through what he'd said. "Um, the chase, cut to? Relating to what I was going to ask? Well." She cleared her throat. "Do you ever regret the past and stuff?"

"Eh? The past and stuff?" Mr Kirisame gave her a quizzical look. "I don't understand the question."

"I mean, like... Do you wish you hadn't beaten me up and all that?"

Mr Kirisame blinked. "Why are you asking me this now?"

"I don't know."

There was a heavy silence. When he realised no elaboration was forthcoming, Mr Kirisame cleared his throat and spoke again. "Well, I, ah, do regret some things. I regret seeing my wife blow herself up. I regret the way my daughter spent the latter half of her childhood running wild with an evil spirit, and, well, I regret not being able to know her. And... Yes, I... I deeply regret having to hurt you all those times."

Marisa's eyebrows rose in unison. "I... Great! Good." She paused. "I regret being beaten up too, so-"

"Anything else?" Mr Kirisame raised his eyebrows. "I mean, you must regret something other than just being beaten up. I mean, perhaps the time you blasted me through the wall, or all the times you told me you hated me..."

Marisa's heart sank. This was exactly what she'd been expecting. "Well, yeah, I regret it, but... You see, it wasn't easy for me to love you back then. I mean, when someone _breaks your arm_ , you tend to get rather-"

"I did that out of love."

"Well, yeah, out of incredibly misguided love-"

"Marisa, did you come here just so you could have a go at me?"

"What?! No, I-"

"Because I'm not interested. If you can't let go of your petty grudges, leave me in peace, all right? I don't have time to deal with your whining all day, so do it when I'm not here or don't do it at all."

"Right. It's... It's fine. I didn't come here to talk about that, though. I wanted to ask... Um... Whether, uh... Oh, for Izanagi's sake, why did you burn all my toys?! I loved them, especially the dolls!"

"Wait, is that what this is about? Your dolls?! You're still upset over them?!" Mr Kirisame scoffed. "You've got enough money to buy the whole village and half of Youkai Mountain! Can't you just buy some new dolls? I was thinking of getting some toys in next week, maybe asking Keine to bring the children here for Economics. All the children look up to you, Izanagi knows why, so if they see you buying my dolls-"

"It wouldn't be the same!" snapped Marisa. "Nothing can replace Ikue, Hanako and Shinobu. They were the best dolls in history, and, uh..." She cleared her throat. "They were of considerable sentimental value."

"And just what do you expect me to do?! Un-burn them?! Look, Marisa, stop bothering me with the past! You defied me, I made you pay the price, what's done is done. GET OVER IT!" Mr Kirisame leapt to his feet, slamming his fists against the kotatsu hard enough to shake the room. "I'm going for a drink."

His sudden fury froze Marisa's blood. For a split second, she was once again the small, frightened girl who'd stood in that same room, trembling and crying and edging towards the door while her father loaded his blunderbuss and laid out his ruthless ultimatum.

"You're welcome to join me," Mr Kirisame went on, slipping on his sandals as if nothing had happened. "My treat, unless you want anything more expensive than beer. We can talk about that jumpsuit. Maybe if you took off the top part and turned it into a warm blouse or a sweatshirt..."

"You... You're inviting me to have a drink with you?"

"Of course. I'm your father, Marisa. I love you," said Mr Kirisame, smiling broadly. His mouth was smiling broadly, at least. There was little kindness in his eyes.

"I don't know, I have to work on some new spells and go roller-blading with Tenshi..." mumbled Marisa, lying blatantly. "How's tomorrow?"

Mr Kirisame gave his doorframe a savage kick. "Oh, for Raijin's sake! Are you that selfish?! Have you really not learned any maturity in all these years?! I invite you out for a drink out of the good of my heart, ignoring all the times you've thrown my fashion advice back in my face, and you turn me down?!"

"What?! Th-that's not what I'm-"

"Is it really to much to ask that you stop thinking of yourself for one moment?! Stop taking me for granted and start acting like an actual daughter! One who doesn't wear jumpsuits unless they suit her!" Mr Kirisame paused, breathing heavily. "What I mean to say is, well... You pulled me out of a giant worm and said you loved me! Why won't you act like it?!"

"I said I was mildly fond of you, and as for-"

"Oh, of course, like you're only _mildly fond_ of flattering clothes."

"Shut up about the jumpsuit!" bellowed the Ordinary Witch who would gladly mud-wrestle an o-dokuro if it meant children could sleep safely that night. "You don't regret a thing, do you? You're not sorry for anything. You don't love me at all. You've just got this picture in your head of your _perfect_ little daughter, all smiles and giggles and frilly dresses and no magic whatsoever, and you still can't accept that I'm not her." Marisa's brow furrowed. "I mean, I do wear frilly dresses quite a lot, but I'll bet you want me to wear a different, less comfy variety. Look, the point is-"

"The point is I _lost_ my _wife_ because of you!" roared Mr Kirisame, rounding on Marisa. "She was everything to me, you little shit, and you... you...!"

"I did _what_ , Dad? What were you going to say? I was in bed with a cold when it-! When she..." Marisa trailed off. "Just what was I supposed to have done? Do you think I blew up her cauldron with the power of my mind or something?!"

"Will you shut the fuck up?!" His face red, Mr Kirisame grabbed his umbrella and lunged at Marisa.

Marisa stepped back. The umbrella whistled past her neck, putting Mr Kirisame completely off his balance. He went tumbling into a bookshelf with a terrible crash. Marisa bolted, her father in hot pursuit.

"That's right, run, you brat! I'm gonna beat you so hard you'll beg for death!" roared Mr Kirisame, chasing Marisa out into the front garden.

Marisa stuck out her foot. Her father went flying into the fish pond.

"Aaaaaghhh... So soggy..." groaned Mr Kirisame.

Marisa's hakkero shone vivid blue. Tendrils of fire exploded outwards, squeezing Mr Kirisame hard enough to make him cry out in pain. "Wh-what are you doing?! Help! Police! This crazy brat is trying to kill me!"

The tendrils winked out. "It's a low-level truthfulness hex," said Marisa heavily. "Look, I'll put one on myself, too."

Mr Kirisame lunged for Marisa, but missed, giving her plenty of time to truthfulness herself up.

"I don't know what you're playing at," said Mr Kirisame dangerously, "but I'm not going to put up with it much longer. Mark my words, Keine's going to have your hide for this."

"Just tell me one thing," said Marisa. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because it's your fault your mother blew-" Mr Kirisame's eyes widened. "Eh?! D-did I just say-?! What I meant was, um, of course I... D-don't..." Wisps of blue magic swirled around his head. Pain contorted his face as the truthfulness hex did its stuff. "All I've ever wanted... Was... To... OF COURSE I HATE YOU! You never think about me, you never do a thing I want, all you do is waste your life with that stupid shrine-maiden and that ghost and all your good-for-nothing friends! What have you ever done to earn my love?! Nothing! You're nothing to me! I hate you more than anything, except wasps, being eaten by giant worms, and that bitch who works in Hitomi's House of Sashimi. I think her name was Hitomi or something."

"I see," said Marisa quietly. She sighed. "I guess I always knew that, ever since Mum died. You were never the same. I just didn't want to admit that-" Her voice caught. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "I just w-wanted you to love me! You're my dad, and-and I'm stuck loving you whether I want to or not, and no matter how hard I try I just can't stop wanting your approval."

"Oh, Marisa... There's no need to be like that. If you love me, act like it! Don't just waste time crying about how terribly afraid you are of me. Just give me a chance. I'll... I'll..." Mr Kirisame fought against the truth hex, but it was too strong. "I'll manipulate you... Prey on your weaknesses... And... And try to mould you into my ideal daughter." His shoulders sagged. "I mean, you could at least show me some sympathy. All I did was burn your dolls. You took my wife, and now you're taking a whole daughter away from me."

"There you go again with the 'You took my wife from me!' bullshit. Do you seriously think I would've killed my own mother?" Through the rage and the tears Marisa held her voice steady. "I loved her more than anything. She was the best there ever was, and- and she meant the world to me! How can you say I killed her?!"

"She spoiled you, Marisa. Everything you asked for, you could have, no matter how bad things would get. You asked for fireworks. Since you had a cold, she decided to make them for you." Mr Kirisame advanced on Marisa as he spoke, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. "My sweet Minami... She hated explosive magic. She could never keep us safe while she was experimenting with it, so she swore off explosives for life. But then _you_ came along, catching diseases, demanding fireworks, and she gave in. She died trying to make you happy. And you have the GALL-!" Mr Kirisame kicked Marisa in the stomach, leaving a damp footprint and sending her sprawling. "The GALL to come here and beg for your stupid, decade-old dolls! You deserve nothing! I could take everything from you and not recoup a thousandth of all you've taken from me. That's why I hate you. Are you satisfied?!"

"Jeez... You've _really_ gone off the deep end this time, haven't you?" Marisa rubbed her stomach and grimaced. There was a lot she could say, about how her father had taken her love for granted while expecting her to bend over backwards to earn his, how he'd made it his life's work to undermine her dreams and her vocation, how he expected her to fix all her 'flaws' while ignoring the dozens of gaping flaws he had, how he took every opportunity to erode her self-esteem even when he was in his fake loving father mode, how he never stopped preying on her emotions to the point that even being in the same room as him was an effort, and how he'd managed to twist the death of her mother- his wife- into the perfect excuse. She could talk about how, in spite of all she'd seen and done, all the terrible foes she'd looked in the eye and insulted, she was still afraid of him, and part of her still desperately wanted his approval, and he knew it and constantly took advantage of it. But what good would it do? No, it was better to go for something even he would understand.

Marisa rose to her feet. Her clenched fists burst into golden flames. "By the power of Gensokyo! SUPER STARLIGHT PUNCH!"

Although Marisa had designed the attack to work best on the kind of youkai who routinely flouted the spell-card rules, all it needed was the absence of a human heart. Yoshirou flew through the front porch and fell in a heap of splintered wood and torn paper.

"You're not my father," said Marisa. "And you're not Mum's husband either. I'm divorcing you on her behalf. You know, since you've been using her death as an excuse to hurt me all these years." Smiling, she bent down and picked up her former father's umbrella. "Now let's see if I can't follow the example you've been setting me all these years..."

"Oh, sure, go ahead, kill me. Finish the job." Mr Kirisame spat at Marisa's feet. "Strike me down with all of your hatred, and your crusade against the Kirisames will be complete! Why shouldn't me?! I'm only your father! I only bloody _sired you_! What do you owe me, apart from everything in the whole world?"

Marisa's fingers flared with rainbow-coloured fire. The umbrella fell burning to the ground. "I owe you a whole childhood's worth of revenge, but I'm happy with the umbrella and the porch, plus the pair of trousers I snatched off your washing line a couple of months ago. As of now, you're dead to me."

"M-my trousers? YOU?!" spluttered Mr Kirisame. "How could you even think of-"

"I said you were dead to me! Don't ever speak to me again!"

"Just tell me one thing," said Mr Kirisame, demonstrating very the rebellious streak his daughter had inherited. "Last month, when you said you were mildly fond of me, you were crying. Your heart was beating on your sleeve! Why?!"

"Because I was under a lot of stress, I'm a decent fucking person and I'm capable of forgiveness! I mean, why else?!" snapped Marisa.

"So you're not mildly fond of me, is that it? It was just a lie to make me love you more?!"

Marisa turned on her heel and stormed away.

"Wait... Marisa?" Mr Kirisame tried to stand up, but the heavy mahogany shoe-rack was having none of it. "Marisa?! Don't you dare walk away from me! Someone stop her!"

Marisa disappeared into an alley between two competing spell-card shops.

"Marisa, come back here this instant! I'm not finished with you!" roared Mr Kirisame. "You stupid girl! I hate you! You're nothing! Nothing! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO EXIST!" A bronze antique fell on his head. Stars swam before his eyes. "Ohhh, gods... I mean, why do I bother? I shouldn't waste my time and emotional energy on an ungrateful girl who's never going to love me, despite how much I've given her. I should just kick her out of my life altogether..."

* * *

Marisa spent five minutes in the alley, crying and hugging her knees. She wept for her mother, for the loving father she used to have, and for the past that was always going to stick with her. A couple of worried villagers offered her a meal and a place to spend the night, but she politely refused, opting instead to go and get drunk.

That evening, Marisa sold a few protective amulets and a signed grimoire, and spent a relaxing evening roller-blading with Tenshi. Exhausted and bruised all over, they snuggled up together and slept soundly.

* * *

Over afternoon tea the next day, Reimu could scarcely believe her ears. Her untouched bowl was chilling fast. "You really made him eat his own shoes? Did he like them?!"

Marisa snorted. "I wouldn't put it past him to kiss his own feet, but the shoes were pushing it a little. Still, I had to get them off so I could steal his trousers. Which I did yesterday, not in secret two months ago."

"Good grief." Reimu sipped her tea, shuddering as it flowed tepidly over her tongue. "I suppose you're finished with him now? I mean, if he shows up on your doorstep with some flowers and sake in the morning..."

"I'll kick his arse. Then I'll ask Keine to eat him."

Reimu's brow furrowed. "Are you sure Keine won't mind the way you tied his arms in a knot yesterday?"

"Nah. She saw the whole thing. I mean, she did step in when I tried to staple Dad's ears to his head, but she was very understanding. I think she only lets him stay in the village because there's no evidence against him."

Reimu spat out a mouthful of tea. "N-no evidence?! He broke your arms! He burned all your things! He- he-!"

"He was _really_ good at hiding his tracks," said Marisa ruefully. "Keine believes me, but the village elders... Well..."

"I still can't believe you tied his arms in a knot," said Reimu. "Particularly since both his arms were working when he brought me that letter this morning."

Marisa blanched. "He, um... He must've been to see Eirin. I mean, of _course_ I tied his arms in a knot! Brutal, bloody vengeance, that's the way I roll. No emotional vulnerability here!"

"Right..." said Reimu, who'd talked to Tenshi and heard all about the way Marisa had cried into her pillow that night. "Anyway, that reminds me, do you want to see the letter? He wanted me to make you love him again, or something. It's quite a, um, riveting read..."

"Give it here."

Reimu handed over the letter. Marisa read the address: Marisa's House, No2 Forest of Magic, Gensokyo. She noted that the paper was pastel yellow, her favourite stationery colour. She stared out into the sky, breathed in, and took a bite out of the letter.

"Eech... Chewy..." muttered Marisa. She dipped the letter in Reimu's tepid tea and tried it again. "Hmmm... It's missing a little something..."

"Can I have some?" said Reimu hopefully.

Marisa tore off the unbitten half of the letter and handed it to Reimu, who gratefully tucked in. Marisa wandered off to look for a jar of chutney.

"There is one more thing I want to know, though," called Reimu. "What did you do with your father's trousers?"

"Oh, those?" Marisa reached into her jumpsuit pocket and, with a flourish, retrieved the haphazardly-sewn figure of a young girl. The ragdoll's body was made out of a medium-sized pair of men's jinbei trousers, her blonde hair woven from wool. "I found a use for 'em," said Marisa, smirking. "Want some delicious, nourishing paper, Hanako the Second? The poison in Yoshirou's words gives it quite a nice kick. Oh, and we'd best bring some home for Ikue and Shinobu, too..."


End file.
